Tag: Spawn

As a precaution after the accident last week, both Squish and I went to the physio. At first he was quite scared, but after I showed him a few of the bits of equipment, and opened up the curtains so he could see out, he relaxed a little bit. I told him that the physio was a special kind of doctor that knew all about muscles and joints, and that she wouldn’t do anything scary or painful. I told him that our physio is also a mama, and she knew how to be gentle with little kids.

Now he wants to know when we can go back!

PS. The car (Bernard) is fixed. We had a service done, and the rear brakes were pooped. Which means that it might not have been all my fault after all. But I was driving a car that had dodgy brakes. ARGH!

Just when I thought the crap was on a wee hiatus….

I had my first ever at fault car accident. Rear ended a lovely woman on her way to work. Thank goodness Inigo is OK (we were on our way to Papa and Grandma’s house when it happened), so both of us saw the GP and the physio yesterday. Inigo seems perfectly fine, I have some whiplash, but because I got it treated early it is much better than I expected. So as well as wasting an entire day of study, Bev and Ted spent the whole day ferrying Inigo and I to appointments, and Ted took our car to the repairers. Bernard is going to cost $1,500 to put right enough that he will be driveable again, but we won’t be fixing to cosmetic damage. Goodness knows how much the other car is going to cost to fix, but I just feel awful for the other woman who was just minding her own business until I crashed into her and turned her life upside down.

A friend recently told me that I am too high needs and that I create drama in my life. She subsequently decided that the cost benefit analysis on our friendship was not in my favour, and terminated the friendship. So I spent a lot of time yesterday really down on myself, and thinking that she was right, that just when things were going well, I sabotaged myself.

But really, it’s only sabotage if I allow it to drag me down, right? If I maintain my positive mental attitude and soldier on, I am still in charge of my own destiny – even if only control how I react to shit, though I can’t control the shit itself.

That is why they call them accidents.

The pain of the last few weeks is getting better. I’ve submitted my first assignment, and have only to wait for results. Mark is moments away from booking our fabulous free holiday (Fiji, a few nights in a posh resort, and a few nights in an even posher hotel). Inigo is giving me (and asking for) lots, and lots, and lots of love. He is a little bit worried that we are going to run short of love because we are using so much of it, but I have assured him that the supply is infinite.

So I am going to continue to add little bits of good stuff to the blog to keep posting something, anything, that isn’t maudlin and depressing.

Here are a few things I came across today that lifted my mood a little, so I thought I would share.

Via Sally, an article about a lace knitting Master. Nothing earth shattering, but lovely.

Nature thrives in Chernobyl. Awesome. Even though we have irradiated the whole area, just the fact that we have left the area alone for so long has meant that the flora and fauna are thriving, despite the radiation.

Baby Lily (Maree’s new baby, she was due the day after Archie and Aubrey were due) slept in my arms for over an hour today. I think she likes me.

I’m doing a naming ceremony for a friends baby in a few weeks, and I finally got the draft ceremony completed. And I have a wedding coming up in September!

Oh, and I found out that next year I can do a subject called “Psychology for Parents” (or something like that), which sounds really interesting!

And my last “thing” is about my hair – it’s been falling out drastically for about 6 weeks now. My hairline has noticeably receded, and I feel like my hair has reduced in volume by about 50%. You can also see my scalp where before my hair used to be very thick. I know some hairloss is normal after pregnancy, but this is getting to the point where it’s not normal. I spoke to a lactation consultant who said that my loss is beyond what is normal after a pregnancy, and is probably related to the stress and shock of what I have been through. This makes sense, as my fingernails also have a noticeable ridge… Anyway, that all sounds crappy, but the GOOD news is that my hair will probably grow back.

I bloody well hope so, I’d look crap as a baldy.

Miriam, come here!

Mama is right here baby, what do you need.

No mama, I want Miriam, go away.

What is wrong baby?

I don’t want you to be my mama. I want a mama that isn’t sad all the time.

———————————————————————————

And right there, I wanted to die. I thought that I wasn’t going to be able to draw another breath into my body. How can I recover from that, repair my relationship with the most important person in the world? I thought I was doing a great job of staying positive, and upbeat, and jolly. I thought I was succeeding in being a good mama, despite my huge sadness.

But no, I suck. So now I am wondering if I need to give up uni and spend more time with my baby, despite the fact that uni has been one thing that I have really been enjoying. Should I quit and try to be more focussed on Inigo, or should I keep going and hope that it makes me happier so that I am more fun to be around in the long run?

We had a long talk in the car on the way home, and he assures me that tomorrow, when he wakes up from a big sleep and feels better, he will ask me to be his mama again. I hope so. Otherwise, mama won’t know how to keep breathing.

Mama, our babies died.

Yes darling, they both died.

But I wanted to bring them home with us. I wanted to have my baby brothers.

Me too baby.

I miss them, I want my brothers. Why did they die?

I miss them too – and we did everything we could to keep them with us. Sometimes, if you try really, really hard, you can change the outcomes. But sometimes, it doesn’t matter how hard you try, how hard you work, or how hard you hope, some things just don’t work out the way you want them to.

And they just died.

Yes bubbaloo. They died. And we’re very sad.

But I want my brothers. I want my brothers.

___________________________________________________________________

Just when you think things are going well, it all turns to shit. I am assured by my gorgeous grief counsellor that I am handling Inigo’s questions well, but it kills me to have to be so calm and considered, when all I want to do is sob and scream, and rage. But I don’t, because my baby needs me to be a grown up. And that’s a choice.

The awesome company that Mark works for are shouting us a trip. A recovery trip, anywhere we want to go – they will pay for it. When Mark took time off after the babies were born, and Archie died, he didn’t have much sick leave accrued, as he had only been with the company for a few months. So they just paid him. His full salary, with no leave debt. They just paid him.

I am pretty well staggered by how awesome they have been already, and this trip is just what this little family needs, to get away from everything for a short break, white sandy beaches and daiquiris have a lot of appeal right now.

There is just one problem. Where to go?

Here are the parameters;

We’d like the option of a kids club. Inigo is three now, and might actually enjoy being off having adventures. Or he might scream the place down and it would be a waste of time, but it would be a good thing to at least try.

We’d like white sandy beaches, daiquiris, and poolboys. Ok, I am prepared to compromise on the poolboys.

Somewhere the Australian dollar is strong – although the company is paying, I don’t expect they will chip in spending money.

I need internets. No, not planning on being attached to the computer 24/7 while on holiday, but I may need to access the university website to do some uni work.

Not too far in travel time – I used to have a theory that the number of hours in flight time should equal the number of weeks spent in a given country. This time we will only have a week or so, so less travel time is better than more.

Price. Obviously, we’re not paying, but I don’t want to push the friendship. Nor do I want to stay in my usual backpackers hovels. I want running water, I want electricity, and goddammit, I want air conditioning. And poolboys.

And this last one might be a bit of a stretch, but I’d like somewhere that has decent vegetarian food. Not that I am particularly vegetarian these days, but I still see myself as a vegetarian, and won’t eat anything but veggie food in front of the kid. One day my moral compass will point north again, but for now I have bigger fish to fry.

Last parameter. I’d really like to holiday somewhere that isn’t going to have a revolution, an earthquake, a tsunami or a hurricane.

Is that too much to ask?

Any ideas?

PS. TMI WARNING>>>

I have a nasty virus. If you’ve seen me lately, watch out for a sore throat and cough, severe stomach cramps, and gastro like symptoms. Apparently it’s going around, and my doctor recommends keeping your fluids up and resting. I recommend gin and panadeine forte.

Customisable, and available here.

I’m not making anything by advertising these guys, but I am a fan. They do really cute name puzzles, and I have been buying them for birthday presents over the years. When I found out that Oscar lost a letter from his, I emailed them to ask if replacements were available. “Sure”, they said, “what colour do you need, we’ll send it out at no cost”. Awesome.